


Broken Arms And Cat Scratches

by indigorose50



Series: No Shame November Fics [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Canon, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: [“So my soulmate feels every time I get hurt?” Ashe asked. He was thinking about yesterday when he had banged his toe on a table in the restaurant.His mother soothed back his pale hair. “Yes. Sometimes it’s inconvenient but I promise, dearest, it’s worth it to find them.”]
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Series: No Shame November Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997986
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	Broken Arms And Cat Scratches

**Author's Note:**

> I have always wanted to write these two. What better time than No Shame November? A majority of this was written in the wee hours and then edited this morning so any mistakes are a combined effort of my two different selves and should be forgiven lol

The first time Ashe heard of soulmates, his parents were still alive. He had sat around the fire with his baby siblings and heard the story of how his parents met.

“I was pulling some bread from the oven and burned my thumb pretty badly,” his father said wistfully as he rubbed the scar. “Your mother was a customer and she cried out the same time I did. After that, well, it was obvious.” His parents shared a loving look that even then Ashe wanted to experience himself.

“So my soulmate feels every time I get hurt?” Ashe asked. He was thinking about yesterday when he had banged his toe on a table in the restaurant.

His mother soothed back his pale hair. “Yes. Sometimes it’s inconvenient but I promise, dearest, it’s worth it to find them.” 

Ashe replayed that conversation every time he was hurt. The first time he practiced with a bow and got a line of bruises up his arm for the trouble. Cutting himself while chopping vegetables. Tripping over his younger brother and winding up with a black eye. 

As he watched the dirt cover his parents’ graves, Ashe wondered if his soulmate could feel this too.

* * *

There were of course times when Ashe felt pain from his soulmate’s side. 

During the first week living with Lord Lonato, Ashe’s nose erupted with blood more than once. He apologized a thousand times for soiling the elegant carpet of the library but Lonato had just chuckled and said his soulmate should be the sorry one. “They can’t keep hurting you like this. They should be more careful,” Lonato said, handing Ashe his spare handkerchief. 

“I-I’m sure he’s trying his best,” Ashe said, voice stuffy.

Lonato raised an eyebrow. “How do you know it’s a he?”

“Huh? Oh.” Ashe dabbed at his nose. “I’ve always had a feeling. Is that normal?”

“Every soulmate is different, son. It’s all normal.”

Ashe glowed under the title, and was less annoyed with his soulmate.

* * *

Ashe had woken up with bruised knuckles for most of his life but the day after Christophe’s death, Ashe looked at his hands with tears in his eyes. “Where were you?” He asked his soulmate. “You seem to like fighting— why didn’t you show up? If this were a knight’s tale you would have. You would have saved him.”

There was no answer. Ashe dug his nails into the back of his hand until he bled and bitterly hoped his soulmate got the message. 

* * *

“Hey!”

Ashe looked around. His new Officer’s Academy uniform still felt stiff in places. The kid running up to him had obviously thought the same thing, because he was without the jacket. The emblem on his chest told Ashe he wasn’t a Blue Lion. Which was ironic given his blue hair.

“Hey!” The kid stopped in front of Ashe. “Is that your cat?” He pointed to the black and white cat curled in Ashe’s lap.

Ashe chuckled. “No. I’ve seen a lot of stays since I got here. I don’t think he’s anyone’s.”

“So can I pet him?!”

“Uh, sure!” The kid sat beside Ashe in the grass and scratched behind the cat’s ears. “I’m Ashe. I’m in the Blue Lion house.”

“Caspar! Black Eagles!”

“I’ve never been to the Empire. Is it nice there?”

“I don’t have much to compare it to but I guess it’s okay.”

The cat got up and moved to Caspar’s lap instead. Caspar let out a soft _whoop_ of victory. Ashe simply giggled. They talked more, longer than Ashe had spoken to anyone here so far, and he began to wish Caspar _was_ in Blue Lions. He had rarely been so effortlessly at ease with someone. 

A growl interrupted them. Sheepishly, Ashe put a hand to his stomach. “Sorry. Guess it’s about lunch time. Um, can I ask you a stupid question?”

Caspar beamed. “Go for it!”

“I keep getting lost around here. Do you know where the dining hall is?”

It was a lie— the dining hall was right beside the classrooms. But Ashe was reluctant to stop such lively conversation; for every sibling story Ashe shared, Caspar matched it with some brawl he had stopped (or, usually, _tried_ to stop). With a laugh that sent the cat running, Caspar got up and led Ashe away.

* * *

Weeks later, Ashe was peacefully reading in the library when he hissed in pain. His arm felt like it had just snapped in half. Across from him, Ingrid looked alarmed. “What is it? What happened?”

“I-It’s nothing.” Ashe grit his teeth. “It’s my soulmate.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry.”

It was common knowledge that there was nothing that could be done about soulmate pain. Usually one was spared whatever painful recovery their soulmate experienced, but the effects of the initial injury could linger. 

Ashe picked up his book, wincing. “Sorry to interrupt. Let’s keep studying.”

Ingrid reluctantly went back to her notes. Ashe hoped his soulmate was safe.

Not long after, Ingrid called a halt and demanded they take a break. “But I said I’m fine!” Ashe argued as his arm throbbed.

“Too bad,” she said. “I need a snack anyway.”

As they passed the infirmary, Ashe happened to glance over and catch sight of a familiar blue. “Caspar?” Ingrid stopped beside him.

Indeed, there was Caspar, lying on a bed with Manuela tending to him. Ashe tried to enter, worried, but Manuela held up a hand. “It was just a training accident. He’ll be fine by dinner, I promise.”

It was only Ingrid’s gentle hand on Ashe’s shoulder that made his feet move. Ashe rubbed his arm all the way down the stairs.

Sometime before dinner, the pain ebbed.

* * *

The day Caspar joined the Blue Lions was a good day. It was too bad Ashe could only think of the upcoming mission dealing with Lord Lonato.

“Don’t worry about it,” Caspar said, hooking an arm around Ashe’s shoulders as they walked to the cathedral. “We just need to knock some sense into him. It works for my dad!”

Nothing had shocked Ashe more than learning Caspar was the second son of a noble house. He didn’t seem at all like the other nobles Ashe had encountered in Gaspard, or at the Academy. But Ashe was grateful for the show of support all the same. Caspar wasn’t religious but he accompanied Ashe to pray any time he was asked. 

“I would prefer to talk it out but, as long as we all make it out alive, I suppose I’m up for anything.”

Caspar grinned. “That’s the spirit!”

* * *

The Professor was, in fact, able to keep everyone alive.

All but one. 

They made camp a good ways away from Gaspard. Ashe curled up in his tent under his blankets and listened to the rain. His knuckles weren’t bruised but there was a bad slash on his shoulder he didn’t remember getting. He dug his fingers into it and cursed his soulmate for not helping— _again_ . His soulmate was out there, still fighting, still getting hurt for the trouble, but he wasn’t where Ashe _needed_ him to be. It was stupid and unfair for Ashe to be angry with someone who could never have done anything, but there has to be _someone_ to hurt here. Someone to blame for this.

“Ashe?”

Caspar entered without waiting for a reply. Others had come by to check on Ashe during the march but now, Ashe just wanted to be alone. He turned away from Caspar.

Undeterred, Casper sat beside him. “Wish I had a cat right now,” Casper said with forced levity. “You always look so happy with cats. And a good book.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, Ashe.”

Silence.

“Dammit, Ashe, he was aiming to _kill_ Dimitri! I had to stop him!”

“I know.”

Caspar put a hand on Ashe’s shoulder and Ashe let himself sob into his pillow, Caspar being a constant, comforting pressure. Six hours ago, Caspar’s hands had been stained with Lonato’s blood. But for Ashe they were only gentle.

* * *

The day before the ball, a series of small claw marks appeared on Ashe’s wrist. He chuckled at them. So many battle wounds from his soulmate over the years— but since coming to Garreg Mach, there had been several signs of some obvious rough housing with cats. Maybe that meant his soulmate was gradually putting fighting behind him.

“Ashe, have you seen Linhardt?” He turned to see Caspar rounding the corner. He was holding his sleeve down over his wrist. 

Though he was technically on stable duty, Ashe stopped shoveling hay and gave Caspar his full attention. “Not in a while. Why?”

“Just need some first aid, that’s all.”

“Oh? Let me take a look.”

“N-No, it’s fine. Just a stupid cut.”

Ashe reached for his wrist. “If it’s so small, I bet you won’t even need a healer!” He pulled back the sleeve.

And saw a series of claw marks.

Ashe blinked and let Caspar go. Caspar let out a nervous laugh. “See? Stupid. You know how that big grey one near the kitchen gets. Anyway, bye!”

He sped away, leaving Ashe with a pitchfork, several hungry horses, and a brain gone blank.

* * *

All month long in class, Caspar had boasted he was a great dancer. He had groaned in outrage when Sylvain was picked to represent the Blue Lions for the White Heron Cup. As much as Ashe had pat his shoulder and consoled Caspar, he privately doubted Caspar could have beaten any of the other dancers.

But now, watching Caspar effortlessly spin with Annette on the dance floor, it was plain to see how wrong Ashe had been.

They hadn’t spoken since the day before and it was killing Ashe. His best friend out of all the Blue Lions, out of the whole _school_ — and Ashe had no idea how to begin. 

It turned out he didn’t have to know. At the top of the next song, Caspar held out his hand to Ashe, cheeks red. 

“I’m sorry for running away,” Caspar began, one hand in Ashe’s and the other on his waist. Ashe had two left feet and didn’t mind letting Caspar lead. “Are you mad?”

“I was confused, but not mad.” Ashe smiled at him. “I’m sorry I broke my toe when I was five.”

Caspar matched his smile. “I’m sorry I cracked my skull three years ago. I swear it wasn’t my fault.”

Ashe laughed. “I believe you.” Distracted, Ashe accidentally stepped hard on Caspar’s toes. They both yelped in pain at the same time, looked at each other, and burst into helpless laughter.

They danced the whole night. They went up to the Goddess Tower and made a promise, hand in hand. After the ball, they snuck into Ashe’s room. It might have been the perfect week.

Were it not for Monica.

* * *

“When did you know?” 

Caspar, holding all his worldly possessions in one bag, turned to Ashe with plain confusion. It wasn’t the time for these questions, Ashe knew— they were going to face the whole of the Imperial Army and had to be ready to leave school at a moment’s notice. 

“Know what?”

“That we were soulmates.”

“Oh. Forever, I guess?”

Ashe raised both eyebrows in surprise. “R-Really?”

“I mean,” Caspar rubbed the back of his neck, face red, “I _thought_ it might be you when we first met. Just felt right, you know? But I figured it out when I broke my arm last spring.”

Unconsciously, Ashe put a hand to the arm that had burned with pain in the library almost a year ago. “You saw me that day?”

Caspar slung his bag over his shoulder. “You were holding your arm weird but you definitely hadn’t been fighting. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

The shrug Ashe got in reply was not convincing. But there was a war coming and the last thing he wanted was an argument. With a kiss to Caspar’s cheek, Ashe took his hand and led them out of the dorm room. 

Between losing the Professor, losing Garreg Mach, and running back to the Kingdom, Ashe forgot all about the conversation.

* * *

Fresh from the flames of Ailell, Caspar held Ashe close in their bed; Ashe’s old bed, actually, but it had been his and Caspar’s for months before the Empire attacked. And it still was these five years later.

They bore matching burn marks— it was impossible to tell whose was whose.

“I would have fought you today,” Ashe confessed quietly into Caspar’s chest, “if I hadn’t come back here. I would have fought for house Rowe.”

Caspar held him tighter. “I wouldn’t have fought you.”

“Yes, you would have. You wouldn’t have had a choice.”

They laid there for a time, waiting for sleep that wasn’t coming. Caspar kissed Ashe’s forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“What? You were fine, Caspar. You fought well.”

“I mean...” Caspar hid his face in Ashe’s shoulder. “When I ran away from you before the ball. Do you remember? I was afraid you hated me.”

Ashe pet his hair even as confusion set in. “Why would I hate you?”

“I always thought my soulmate hated me. Sometimes I could feel him get hurt and I just… I _knew_ he was doing it on purpose. To hurt _me_. I thought you would hate me if you knew and I never wanted to risk losing my best friend. I never wanted you to figure out we were soulmates.” Caspar gulped. Ashe’s shoulder was damp. “That’s why I didn’t tell you when I figured it out.”

All those times Ashe had cursed his soulmate— cursed _Caspar_ — for not saving him like a knight in a storybook. Of course Caspar drew the obvious conclusion. Ashe pulled Caspar up for a kiss. “I could never hate you,” Ashe said. “Even if we weren’t soulmates… Caspar, you are incredibly precious to me and I’m sorry for everything. You did nothing wrong.”

Caspar shook his head. “I killed your father.”

“I forgave you for that already.” Ashe climbed on top of Caspar to press kisses to his jaw and cheeks. “And I forgive you for not saving my brother. And for everything else I’ve ever blamed you for.”

Caspar caught his face and kissed him, slowly, both ignoring the taste of salt as their tears mingled. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too. I always have.” Ashe took in a calming breath and released it in a chuckle. “We need a cat. Cats cheer us up, right?”

Caspar let out a watery laugh. “We need a good book too.” He laced their fingers together and kissed Ashe’s knuckles. “Will you read to me?”

Ashe pressed their foreheads together. It was a shame only pain went through the soulmate bond, for Ashe wanted Caspar to feel all this love boiling in his chest. “Of course, dearest.” 


End file.
